Page 94 of In Her Blood
Evelina held her expression steady despite his quip. “You may have done the math, but I’m a lot short on men I trust to run any crews.” She snuck her hand out again and patted Otto’s thigh. “This one’s staying close to me, so he’s a non-option, of course. And that brings me to you.”
Kirill’s eyes widened.
“Would you be interested in being one of my brigadiers? It might actually end up being just the two of you at first, depending on how many men give me their faith in the beginning. You should know that.” She clamped her lips shut before her useful information turned into ramblings. He’d been sitting there the whole time, so he’d heard her speech about brigadier structuring.
Kirill swallowed hard, flexed his fists over his lap, and turned his head toward Artem. “You can be top brigadier, but I’m Best Man at the wedding. Don’t take it personally.”
Evelina blinked.
Otto snorted. “Who says you get to decide that?”
Kirill’s head snapped around again even as Artem laughed. “I do, obviously. You can’t leave your best bro on the sidelines for every-fucking-thing after all the times I had to watch you stare at her like some dopey-eyed, lovesick moron!”
Evelina choked on a laugh, one hand flying up to her mouth too late to catch the sound. She pulled in a breath to compose herself. “So, that’s a yes?”
Kirill straightened, his expression settling into a steadier smile. “That’s a hell yes.”
Evelina let her smile bloom, and Otto bent down and pressed a kiss to her head. She let the quiet congratulations settle inside her and released a breath.
“Ma’am,” Artem said as he also settled, “I actually do have one question.”
Evelina cocked her head. “What is it?”
“What did you need that list for?”
She felt a tendril of mischief creep into her smile. “Well, I’ll need to meet them, and they’ll need to swear to me, of course. But if they do, I was going to offer them the next brigadier spots—assuming or as we accumulate enough men.” She realized there was a possibility that she might acquire someone from Ivan’s crew with comparable skills, but as she had no reliable way to vet those men yet, this was the best preparation she’d thought of.
Artem huffed as if he wanted to laugh again. “That might kinda suck, but I like it.”
“I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“So,” Kirill said, “we’re talking to more guys today, then?”
This time Evelina did clap her hands. “Da. Shall we head out to greet our soldiers, gentlemen?”
At her suggestion, the men around her found their feet and they filed from the suite. Artem and Iouri walked ahead of her, spaced slightly apart so each of their outer shoulders nearly grazed a wall. Behind her, Otto and Kirill followed in a similar manner. And it struck Evelina as they moved through the hotel, eventually climbing into two separate vehicles, that even though all they’d done was have a short and barely half-professional conversation, she still felt stronger.
She wasn’t consciously thinking about donning some poorly imagined mental construct of a woman in charge in an attempt to convince the people around her of something she only prayed was true. Shewasin charge, and they knew it.
When they stepped inside the nightclub, the gathered men who’d all been standing around and murmuring in probably mounting confusion parted to let their little entourage through without a single command. She’d never actually been inside the club, and a flicker of curiosity sparked inside, but she ignored it. Just as she ignored the immediate desire to see how many faces she might recognize as they passed.
Evelina kept her gaze forward, her head high, and allowed only Otto to help her up onto the stage they’d use as a platform for this moment. And she made a mental note to prioritize acquiring two new spaces—a home for them to actually live in, and something they could use for large meetings when necessary. First, though, she needed the manpower to make that space worth its expense.
Artem and Kirill took up mirroring positions on opposite edges of the stage, facing outward with impressively stoic expressions. Iouri found a spot behind the shoulder Otto wasn’t hugging to stand just close enough to be visible. None of the men stood in front of her, or reached to restrain her.
Evelina drew one breath and allowed herself to cast her eyes over the group. She recognized a few faces from surviving house staff and one more of father’s former guard, most of those standing closer to the back. The men she’d met, or at least seen, of Artem’s crew had gathered nearer to the front.
Tolya even smiled up at her like he wasn’t nervous at all.
She identified Pasha and a couple of the other faces from Ivan’s crew, standing among men whose faces she did not know. More of Ivan’s, she assumed. And that was fine. If Ivan’s had been loyally following the leader they knew best, she wouldn’t resent them for that. But this time she would insist they all make a choice. There were also some men and women gathered in business uniforms, and while she hadn’t mentally prepared to also see their people who held down the businesses, she was glad word had gotten to them. Today’s message was for everyone.
“Thank you all for coming,” she finally said. “I’ll be frank, and this information will be abrupt for many of you, but please hold your questions until the end. What you need to know is actually simple. I am Evelina, daughter of the late Mikhail Nikolaev, cousin of the late Pyotr Nikolaev … cousin of the Italian De Salvos.” She let those words linger for a beat, watching carefully to see how many men reacted.
At least half. More than one stumbled. Her father’s last guardsman ducked out of sight, and a moment later a door creaked open and shut.
She reached back with her palm up to indicate Otto as though she were presenting him. “And soon-to-beMissusVoronin.”
Otto took her hand and raised her knuckles to his lips.
